New American Classic
by GlassCase
Summary: Today is an otherwise completely ordinary Wednesday, the sky as blue as ever and Arthur's heart ready to confess to his all dearest friends his torturing secret, but most of all to him. Angst
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Heads up, angst and some controversial stuff.

_Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia or Taking Back Sunday's song, "New American Classic" (That song really takes me back to the good ol' days…yuup) _

_I want to thank my new amazing beta reader __**ILoveAnimeVeryMuch123**, __it's the first time I've had someone beta my work so it's pretty awesome and exciting :)_

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_New American Classic_

_"We've got to get better."  
I said, "It's all in your head."_

_We could live through these letters  
Or forget it all together.  
See the months they don't matter.  
It's the days I can't take  
When the hours move to minutes and I'm seconds away._

This was it, this was the day.

Arthur combed back his untamable yellow locks and heaved; he knew it, he just knew. Today was the day; no more secrets, no more insecurities, no more awkward encounters.

In actuality there was no particularly special reason as to why he had chosen today, at least he couldn't come up with a reason consciously anyway.

He looked outside his room's dew covered window; well, it was a nice Wednesday morning, fairly temperate, slightly windy, and the sky as blue ever. But in the end it didn't really matter what the weather was like, because he'd make today memorable even if he didn't want to.

* * *

"Arthur, mon ami, what is this all about? I have another arrangement I would like to be getting to." Francis groaned uncharacteristically in his seat.

His Spanish friend nodded his head in agreement, "Si, Lovino isn't much of the waiting type."

Arthur stood over the two teen boys, his face red; with anger or embarrassment neither of them was exactly sure as it was hard to tell with the Brit. The bell for their first class had rung some time ago, but he insisted in keeping them after to have a "talk."

The teacher looked at her students warily, but left the room. She knew Arthur as the being an excellent, punctual, and somewhat prudish student. It was the other two she was worried about. Well, it could be worse; at least that horrid German albino boy wasn't with them.

Arthur breathed in steadily. In his mind this had been a lot easier to deal with. He didn't imagine them gaping at him, waiting on the edge of their seats with that look of downright impatience.

He could tell both were growing uneasy. "Arthur, que pasa, you're not dying are something, ay?" Antonio questioned seriously, and for the first time neither looked like they were joking.

Arthur didn't want them to worry, but the fear was making it more and more difficult. He had played this scene a million times over in his head, and each time he would falter. Now this was reality and he had to choose his words carefully, "No I-I know that what I'm about to say may risk our friendships, and I'm willing to risk it because…because I can't go on with lying to you, my friends, I can't go on lying to myself…"

Francis was the first to react, placing his hand on top of Arthur's clenched white knuckles, "Whatever it may be, Antonio and I will always be your friends." His words cut through Arthur, making his stoic face crumble away in a melancholy smile.

They both beamed reassuringly. In normal circumstances Arthur wouldn't even let Francis so much as poke him, but now he felt himself wanting to bury his face in both of their comforting arms and cry to himself, cry to the world, "I-I'm… gay."

There was silence.

The silence was something he expected, but dreaded dearly.

The two boys looked at Arthur's terrified and curious face, then to one another, bursting into laughter.

Arthur's expression went from dumbstruck, to hurt, then to completely furious all in the matter of seconds it took for him to actually grasp their unorthodox reaction. He never felt like causing someone as much physical pain as he felt for these two. He had just confessed! They should be quiet, or at least reassuring, but no, he had complete wankers for friends who laughed at him!

The Spaniard went as far as to falling from his chair, clutching his stomach and heaving for air between his hysterical laughter. Francis, by some miracle remained in his seat, but laughed so hard tears were prickling from the corners of his eyes.

This was bollocks. "You are complete arseholes! I trusted you, and this is what I get? At least have the decency to laugh behind my back if you think its so bloody funny!" He was fuming now, and they had relatively calmed down to light chuckles.

Arthur made to storm out of the classroom, but felt two hands grab hold of shoulders and spin him back around. His eyes met with a pair of mischievous blue and green.

Francis grinned endearingly as he wiped his diluted eyes, "Angleterre, you have it all wrong! We are not judging you for being gay!"

"We already knew since before middle school, amigo!" Antonio piped up with a large smile.

Arthur was taken aback, all this time, all this time torturing himself, and his bloody best friends had known since elementary school! He wasn't even sure what gay meant then, sure he knew he was different since he was a child, but it never occurred to him until his preteen years that he that he could be anything but straight.

As if reading his mind, or his obvious expression both boys chuckled, "You dressed up like a fairy for Halloween two years in a row."

"You sew… a lot."

"You'd rather drink tea with your "mummy" then play football."

"Your crush on Doctor Who, let's just say… it's pretty obvious…"

"And lastly, you can't resist my obvious charms, mon cherie." Francis ended with a wink much to the Briton's repulsion.

Arthur wasn't exactly sure if should've been furious or filled with relief, so he settled for irritated, "Half of that is clearly stereotypical, plenty of straight gentlemen find joys in sewing and tea drinking with their mums…"

Antonio shrugged, "Well, it didn't really help your case, hombre. Besides, we were right anyway." He finished with a proud smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Why didn't you two tell me then? If you already knew for that bleeding long, why not just tell me? Do you know how long it took me to have the courage to say that?"

Francis put his arm around the slighter boy's shoulder which the Briton quickly shrugged off, "Arthur, mon petit ami, don't you think we wanted to? We did, but then you might have denied it, or worse admit it before you were ready. You had to come to terms with it on your own or you wouldn't have felt this good; you do feel good, oui?"

Arthur looked down at the cold tiled floor, yes, he did feel right good now, renewed in fact. Before he had been slowly but surely torturing himself, and he felt like complete shit lying to his closest friends when all they had been was loyal and honest to him. They did have a point in not telling him they knew, because damn it all, he felt like he just climbed a mountain and conquered the world just by saying those two words.

"So, we are the first you've told?" Antonio asked, his forest green eyes beaming with excitement.

Arthur folded his arms and looked off to the side, a nervous habit of his, "Well I- yes…I've known you two the longest…unfortunately, and I figured I should start off where it was easiest. Today though, I plan to tell all my closest friends."

Francis smiled teasingly, pinching the shorter blonde's cheek, "Oui? So what brought this sudden confession on? Is there a certain _amour _in your life? Perhaps someone you've been spending quite a lot of your time with?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

It was no secret as to what, or more like who, Francis was referring to as he winked impressively, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Arthur choked back at the sudden accusation as pools of blood made its way to his cheeks, "I-I haven't the slightest idea what you mean! For once I thought just maybe my oldest friends would care to know how I was feeling inside, but I suppose that's too much to ask for, hm?" He quipped.

Unfortunately his guilt trip wasn't successful as Francis went right back to making the Brit uncomfortable with his close proximity, "Well isn't that sweet, you thought of us first! Not even your family knows?"

He had thought of telling his family first, but disregarded the foolish idea before it could blossom and take root. It's not to say that he never thought of telling them, but it never felt like the right time. With his peers, it was completely different confessing because as much as he didn't want to admit it… His family was going to be there forever whether he liked it or not.

After confessing just now, though, he wondered if his family secretly knew all along just like his two oldest friends did. If they just felt it was best to keep it a secret. Unfortunately, he couldn't picture his brutish brothers cutting him any slack if they had known-luckily one of them was already living on his own, and the elder two were in college. That left his parents and his younger brother who obviously would have no clue what homosexual meant and would just giggle childishly at the word 'sex.'

"Didn't even cross my mind…" he stated blankly.

Francis waved it off as nonsense. "All in good time, so who is next on your list of friends if you don't mind me asking?"

Arthur did a mental checklist. "It's not going to be everyone, but I suppose… Gilbert and his lot are next. Unless they already know?" the Brit asked dryly with a bothered eye twitch.

"Si! He and Roderich made a bet back in freshman year. Roderich thought you were going to wait till graduation, but Gilbert said you'd be 'flaming' before spring!" The Spaniard laughed, but silenced immediately at seeing the look on the British boy's face.

Arthur seethed, "I should have known all my friends were sodding gits…"

"Don't take it seriously, mon cher; you know how those two get with each other… if anything, maybe they're ga-"

Arthur slapped his hand over the French boy's mouth, "Please, don't finish that sentence. You're giving me bloody mental pictures." He cringed in disgust, "Anyway, I better dash before the next bell rings… I'd like to get this over with." The Brit sighed, grabbing his bag and walking out of the room.

"Buena suerte, mi amigo!"

"Au revoir!"

He could hear his friends yell as they too left the room, free at last. Well, at least they knew he finally came to terms with the fact that he was who he was and that was one thing he could do nothing about, it didn't exactly mean he was happy, but it was a start.

As usual the two German speaking seniors were hanging around the music room, with that strangely courteous Hungarian girl. Before even opening the door he could hear the boys shouting to one another in German, wincing silently he pushed open the door to the scene in front of him.

Gilbert out of dress code was usually the norm for him, but seeing the snarky delinquent with no pants on wasn't exactly something the Brit thought of as an everyday occurrence. Elizabeta held the pair of pants in her hands, while Roderich sat by his beloved piano with the same stoic face as ever. As soon as they each made eye contact Arthur stepped back wide eyed. "I'll come back later…" he said, shutting the door behind him as softly as he could. Okay, that was… He shook his head in disbelief. That was worse than a hundred mental pictures.

"Wait, limey!"

The door opened behind him, Gilbert stood now with his pants on and fastened, "Bad timing, kesese~" He smiled cheekily down at the short blond, who backed away farther.

"Then I'll gladly come back another, uhh… appropriate time."

Elizabeta stepped into the scene laughing nervously. "Sorry Arthur, they were just betting that Gilbert couldn't take his pants off in under five seconds…"

"Ha! I showed you; that's how fucking awesome I am. Come on baby, soak up the awesome!"

The Hungarian girl rolled her eyes. "It'll be perfect for your future career as a gigolo."

Speaking of betting... "Well… it seems you've all been doing a lot of betting haven't you?" Arthur interrupted bitterly, stepping into the room and shutting the door quit sharply.

Elizabeta ran her fingers through her hair uneasily and looking off to the side, never being one for confrontation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Briton folded his arms and focused his weighty gaze on Gilbert and the quiet pianist. "I just came here to tell you I know about your little bet involving me."

The two boys' eyes widened in alarm, and Gilbert chuckled tensely, "Oh… OH! Thaaat bet…Sorry Art, we were just messing; we know you're not-"

"I also wanted to tell you, unfortunately… you win that bet… sorry, Roderich. I simply couldn't wait till graduation..." Arthur interrupted, shy at first, but strong and confident as he looked into the faces of the same friends he had grown up with, and he knew then that he could trust them.

Same as before there was a silence, and then a girlish squeal as Elizabeta enveloped Arthur in a rough tackle nearly making him stumble to the floor, "Arthur! That is so great, I'm so proud of you!" She screamed petting his hair unevenly.

Arthur gave her an awkward side-hug, "Thank you, that means so much to me." He smiled sweetly as she pecked his cheek and giggled knowing he meant every word of it.

Gilbert went up behind him, wrapping his arms around both teens. "Mein gott, I knew you couldn't keep it in that long, and the awesome me wins every bet. You better be paying me in Euros, cheap ass." he cackled, looking over at Roderich.

Surprisingly, the Austrian boy took the defeat graciously, and quietly congratulated the Brit, which he gladly accepted.

"So, what you confessing today for? Is it yours and the dummkopf's anniversary or something?" The German teased offhandedly.

Once again, Arthur was left choking on his own saliva. Elizabeta giggled some more and roughly slapped the Brit on the back to help him regain his senses.

"S-Sod off! How could you assume something so… so unfounded?"

Gilbert only rolled his ruby gemmed eyes. "Come on, Arthur. Quit with the bullshit, why else do you spend every waking minute with the guy? You guys don't even share any classes and you don't hang around his other jock asshole friends. It's just… obvious."

Arthur looked off to the side, scowling; he knew he couldn't deny it as he felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment at his clear obviousness. "That's not why I told you though. You're my friends for some reason or another, and I felt you had a right to know…"

"Thank you for that." he could hear Roderich say as Elizabeta made a cheery nod in agreement.

For the rest of the break Roderich played a piece on his violin to express his emotions; emotions Arthur still wasn't particularly sure about, but at least he got a free song out of it, and that was a pleasant change.

The bell rung shortly after and with a quick goodbye Arthur was on to his next destination, more than content with his old friends' reaction. Always being the pessimist made him incline to expect the worst out of every situation, so he more than happily noted it did not come to that and instead was pleased that it went far better than he ever hoped for.

Smiling to himself he crossed the music hall, and into the science department. In retrospect, Arthur never held any form of science with high regard; he had initially taken it to fill some space in his schedule which had otherwise been overrun by honors English courses, drama and the arts.

Now he regretted every minute of it, and knew the only reason he wasn't falling on his arse behind the others was thanks to his Japanese mate, Kiku.

Unlike Antonio and Francis whom he had known all his life, Kiku was still a fairly new friend in his book. He had only met him during freshman year, yet he felt compelled to tell the boy his secret. He liked the fact that Kiku was never one to judge when Arthur would go off on one of his infamous rants about his horrible brothers, or when he hadn't the slightest clue where to start on an experiment during their labs.

He went and sat at his normal station next to his lab partner who looked up from his manga and smiled shyly. "Did you have an enjoyable weekend, Arthur?"

Arthur was glad that Kiku had quit referring to him in honorifics. In fact, for their entire freshman year he stood by calling him 'Kirkland-san', only till their last semester had he finally dropped the honorifics all together. Knowing that Kiku felt comfortable enough to just call him 'Arthur' made him delighted to see their friendship growing. There were certain times, however, when he had difficulty reading the other boy since he kept to himself for the most part, but that's what he liked about Kiku; the mystery about him.

"Fine, thank you. Yours?" he asked politely as he opened his anatomy book to the correct page.

"Peaceful; I had a friendly Skype chat with my cousin from Hong Kong. I believe he will be coming over for a visit during the holiday."

"Spring break, is it?"

"Oh yes… I look forward to that."

This is how all of their conversations went. By most standards it could be seen as a rather dry and inflexible relationship, but Arthur was quite grateful for it. He had enough loud and obnoxious friends to fill an entire football field with their idiocy; having just one well-kept and quiet chum was all he could asked for and more.

"Kiku, I hate to spring this up on you, but you would consider us good friends, right?"

The shorter boy looked uncertain at the strangely off-put question. "I would like to think so…"

"Well, I want to tell you something, but perhaps I'll wait till after the lab."

Kiku bit his lip and looked up at the board with their assignment already posted on it. "That would be best."

Working more diligently than usual, both boys finished their lab with thirty minutes to spare. "You two finished already? Damn, want to switch partners next time, Arthur?" the Dane student next to their station asked with a laugh. He received a pout and a flick on the nose from his quiet Norwegian partner.

Arthur rolled his eyes as he turned back to his partner; a partner he would not be giving up anytime soon. "So…"

"You would like to tell me something?"

Arthur crossed his arms, looking off to the side. It was still difficult having to confess, but he could feel it becoming less strenuous with each person he told. "Yes… I-I don't know if you know this already Kiku, but I hold our friendship dear, even if we haven't been friends for very long. Anyway… I'm steering from the point, aren't I?" he asked, chuckling anxiously as his eyes met surprised brown ones.

"There is no need to rush, Arthur. Whatever it is, I'll understand." Of course, he'd understand, this was Kiku, they were more alike than most of his closest friends.

"No… I need to tell you now." He took one look around to make sure no one was listening in, and turned back to the Japanese boy. "I find myself…attracted to the same sex. I hope this doesn't affect our friendship, I just thought you should know because I felt compelled to tell all my dearest friends today."

The usual silence answered him as he felt a light palm on his shoulder. It was strange for Kiku to show physical compassion, and yet here he was; Arthur felt his eyes water with joy at the smile on his friend's face, "Arigatou. I'm glad I hold such a special place in your heart that you would think to tell me. Truth be told, I am also curious about the same sex… look." He opened a page from the manga he had been reading earlier and discreetly showed it to the dumbfounded English teen.

A scene of a tall boy with glasses kissing a shorter one with choppy hair surrounded by bubbles and flowers filled the page. "It's my, how you would say... guilty pleasure. It's strange, because I also find myself attracted to women with large breasts… perhaps I am confused?"

Arthur laughed quietly with relief; it felt nice to know that he had a friend who was also going through similar problems, well, somewhat similar, "No, you're just a very open person, Kiku. As long as you can respect my taste, I'll respect yours. Shake on it?" he said and smiled; extending his hand, the Japanese boy shook it sincerely.

The bell rung some time later with Arthur reading a small bit of the manga. He was still trying to get used to reading it from right to left. "You may borrow it if you'd like." Kiku said as he packed his belongings back in his bag.

"Well I have to say it's…interesting. I like the short fellow in here, but the one with the glasses rubs me the wrong way." Arthur replied as he thumbed through it casually.

"He'll grow on you." Kiku smiled as he promptly left the room.

The Briton shrugged as he put the manga in his bag, and did another mental checklist. So far, he had told all his childhood friends including Kiku, but there were many more he made during high school that he contemplated about telling. Friends like Ludwig, Gilbert's younger brother, and Feliciano-that little Italian boy-had crossed his mind. He never did speak to either of them about personal things, and to spring that up might seem a little strange. In fact, there were plenty of friends he wouldn't consider telling, and figured that was okay; most of them probably wouldn't want to know. It was personal, and sooner or later they'd find out anyway courtesy of that loud mouth albino. Well as long as he didn't tell the school's gossip "queen" Feliks right away, he might still have a chance to go unnoticed before graduation. Not that he even cared what the masses at school thought of him now that he was leaving in a matter of months, but his friends had a right to an explanation from him personally, and that's why he was currently in this predicament.

Arthur knew he was holding back a certain thought however; a certain someone actually. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have to tell him personally, but he was shaking just at the thought of it. He felt silly; why worry when all his friends had been more than happy for him? This would be no different…

The English boy sighed as he dragged himself to the next class; the day was far from over.

* * *

Staring at himself in the mirror he exhaled shallowly. "Come on old boy, only one more git to go. I left the simplest one for last, so just… go… just go." he coached his reflection, but all he received back was a hyperventilating mess. He turned on the sink and splashed cold water in his face to help calm his jittering nerves.

Arthur looked at himself again. Damn was he pathetic, hiding away in the boy's restroom where just outside stood his last obstacle. "Sod it, I promised myself! Today is the only day I can do this! The day is practically over already!" He felt like screaming, kicking, throwing himself to the floor in self-loathing.

No. Not now, not when he had finally accepted it. There was no changing, it was not a phase, it was reality. He, Arthur Kirkland, had to face this with his head held high. "Go." he commanded his body, and so it went.

* * *

He took him to where he knew there would be absolute privacy. As cliché as it was, it was underneath the field bleachers.

The taller boy laughed as he leaned his athletic body on a pole. "Man, Artie, first you ignore me all day, now you want privacy? What are planning to confess to me or something?" The American chuckled at his own joke, not even knowing how right on the ball he actually was.

"Belt up, git. This is serious and I'm not going to have your stupidity ruin it for me."

The baseball player shrugged, "'Kay, can we wrap up whatever this is though? I'm starving and been thinking about a Big Mac since second break…" he grumbled, rubbing his flat stomach. "Hear that, Artie? My tummy's making the rumblies!"

Arthur rolled his eyes; of course he had to be friends with the world's most boorish, egocentric, dim-wit. He had it coming though, but never expected this. No, he never thought for a second he'd be friends with the likes of Alfred F. Jones. For a time even he refused to call what they had was friendship, but there was no other way to describe what it was they shared. He dare say he shared more with this boy than he did with his childhood friends, family even. The most absurd part about it was the fact he'd only known Alfred for six months.

Alfred was a transfer student, coming from the state of Virginia just in time for their last year in high school. It was a curious case that there was new student in their graduating class, and having that student be Alfred F. Jones was not something that was easy to adjust to. The boy was everywhere at once; he wanted to be part of every sports team, every club and activity, and his motivation was unrivaled for the most part. Some students welcomed the overly friendly all-American boy, and others much like Arthur rolled their eyes at this. Why bother trying to make an impression in school when it was already the last year anyway?

Unfortunately, the boy made sure never to exclude Arthur from his energetic charisma. It was almost suffocating at times. For awhile it was the same routine; he would tell the American to sod off while the lad would just laugh and continue being a nuisance. He felt then he had no other choice but to play along with Alfred's silly game; he was just friendly to everyone and sooner or later he'd lighten up on bothering the Brit. Well, that never happened; in fact the constant pestering had gotten worse, and all Arthur could do was endure. He couldn't exactly pinpoint when it went from pestering to having a nice conversation with the American, but eventually that was what their encounters turned into.

Their friendship was a natural occurrence, something that was just unchangeable; ironically enough he could think of another thing about himself that was just as natural and unchangeable, something he had been holding back for far too long, too afraid to indulge his friend in this personal bit about himself as fear constantly ate away at him.

Coincidentally, Alfred was fairly eager about telling Arthur of his old home and friends. He even went so far as revealing personal matters Arthur had to promise not to share with others. Alfred's parents were divorced; that wasn't very shocking to Arthur. It only made sense as to why Alfred moved from one state to another so abruptly. What caught him off guard was the picture Alfred presented to him, a picture of himself beaming happily as he held on protectively to a boy that could only be described as his double, his identical twin. He was now living in Canada with their mother, and Alfred was told they were to only see each other during Christmas and summer vacation.

Arthur felt his heart break for the American, but Alfred reassured him that once he was eighteen, he'd every right to see his brother anytime he wished. The Brit smiled softly at his friend's optimism. He knew then there was definitely more to Alfred F. Jones than what was presented to most people, and he had the privilege of seeing it. He treasured this time with Alfred, because he knew it wouldn't last. Their dreams were far too different from one another's to ever cross paths again, but he learned to accept that.

To think only months ago he didn't even know Alfred existed, and now he was going to open his heart to him, reveal his fears, his insecurities, everything he had hid under scowls and false contempt for the boy.

Arthur made himself look into those pair of sky blue eyes, such a perfect sky it would be with not a cloud in sight.

"Dude, you're shivering… and sweating. You ok?" Alfred's concern got the best of him as he made his way closer to his shorter friend.

"I'm fine, jolly in fact. J-Just give me a minute, Jones." he said, scowling and wiping the sweat from his thick brows.

Alfred shrugged. "Just worried is all. Never seen you like this… the Queen didn't die or anything, right?" He laughed.

The Brit felt an eye roll coming on, "No, the Queen is perfectly fine, git. I just don't know where to begin exactly..."

"From the beginning, duh!"

"I know that, wanker! Just… damn it I don't exactly know how to put this…"

Arthur felt a small bit of dread as he looked down at the grass splayed underneath their feet. Why he was so hesitant? Why was he having such doubts? He could feel something inside of him telling him to stop, step back, and leave, but why? Even though Alfred wasn't the smartest or politically correct of fellows, he was understanding and undiscriminating. He was a jock at heart, but he had friends from all walks of life; from the nerdy video gamers, to the stoners, to the punks, and all the way back to the shy girl who liked to sit in the corner at lunch. He didn't care what background someone was from, what language they spoke, or how they spent their days. He just wanted to be everyone's friend. Whether he was successful or not was up for debate, but Arthur took this token of friendship and held it dear.

"You've told me a lot about your life, things you haven't told others, right?" Arthur asked breathing as steadily as he willingly could.

"Well, yeah, you're the only one who knows about my parents and Mattie. You're like… my best friend dude, I had to tell you." Alfred beamed genuinely. "So what's up?"

Arthur felt his face heat up. "Best friend, huh? When was that nonsense decided?"

"Aha, at the last 'league of friendship' meeting, guess you missed it." the bespectacled boy snorted. "So come on, quit beating around the bush, tell me what's up!" Alfred said, finally getting serious.

Again that sense of dread began to twist his insides, and he felt himself grow sick. What was this? He didn't feel this for anyone else, and still that something deep inside his mind was signaling for him to run, to never speak of this with Alfred. But why? Alfred was his best friend, he would understand, he was…

"I'm gay."

The words were ripped from his mouth before his mind could even take the time to process what it was he said, and before he knew it, he had confessed. The weight crushing his shoulders had lightened somewhat and now he could feel himself able to breathe normally again.

He expected the dreaded silence, but instead was met with a husky laugh. Great, just bloody fantastic, another friend who already knew all along. It relatively shocked him a little to see that Alfred already knew considering he was terrible at reading situations and people; maybe Gilbert was right and he was just really obvious?

Alfred chuckled a little more. "Alright dude, jokes aside, what's up? I'm being serious. I gotta go soon; I'm playing in our first home game today, remember I told you to come cheer for me?"

Or maybe Arthur gave his twat friend far too much credit.

The Brit bit his lip nervously. He was not expecting this, and wasn't exactly sure how to approach it, "Alfred... I'm… being honest with you. Why else would I say such a thing if I didn't mean it?"

The American's eyes bulged out impressively as he took a careful step back with a look of clear disbelief and fear. "You're shitting me…" he breathed heatedly.

Arthur looked just as baffled as his friend. He had never seen such an expression make its way on Alfred's usually carefree face. He stepped forward, obviously trying to explain himself. "Yes… I... you're my dear friend I-"

"Don't say that!" Alfred bit out, his mouth thinned and eyes narrowed. The look of disgust was clearly evident.

The Brit could only watch helplessly, his eyes began to water, and his throat clenched, but he held firm. This was all just a misunderstanding, this was all a mistake. Alfred was his best friend; they shared so much, they understood each other. This wasn't right; he needed to fix it now.

He stepped forward one last time. "Alfred, please… it's not going to change anything between us. I just couldn't keep lying to you, to all my friends, to everyone…"

Alfred snarled, his eyes piercing into the other teen's. "Y-You're…that's disgusting! How can you like that shit? I bet… I bet you like me don't you? Huh? That's why you're telling me this shit?"

He couldn't stop the tears from falling now. It was unbearable. His friend, his best friend, looking at him as if he wasn't even the boy he shared his deep secrets with, as if the months together hadn't even existed.

"A-Alfred… p-please… this is hard enough for me… I-I… I feel horrible already. You're my friend… y-you're supposed to-"

"STOP IT! I can't be friends with a fag like you! You've been lying to me all this time! You sick fuck!"

The salty tears were streaming down his chin and onto the grass, never to be seen again. He rubbed his irritated eyes and hiccupped. "Don't say things you can't take back, Alfred, please, please, please… say you won't care…say it, please… for God's sakes…"

Alfred stepped back even further, his eyes brimming with repulsion. "Shut up… don't... don't even think about talking to me again, you understand? You faggots are going to burn in hell, and I'm not going let you drag me down with you!" his voice cracked as he stole away into the gym; taking one last look at the broken and verbally abused boy he left standing underneath the bleachers.

Arthur felt his legs buckle as he fell on his knees into the plush grass. Today was a Wednesday; it was fairly temperate, slightly windy, and the sky as blue as ever. It was Alfred's first home game; coincidentally, the same day Arthur confessed.

But this was one thing he could nothing about.

* * *

_A/N: Some of it I will admit was uncomfortable for me to write. Of course Alfred's thoughts and words are not a reflection of the American people in anyway. What I will say though is that many Americans are fed the stereotypical view of a gay/lesbian person and believe they are all like this, and some of us don't even know how to react when the person turns out not to be anything like said stereotype. _

_Don't be too upset with Alfred, I'm mean its common for some people to be confused and quick to anger when they don't understand or can't accept something. Not to say what he did was right…_

_As for Arthur, I don't know first hand how it's like to come out, but I tried my best writing from that perspective. I have friends who have and I'm sure some of you may know how difficult it must be for them. So here's to them._

Anyway, one last thing, continuation, or as is?


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, alerted, and read last chapter! I'm sorry i put this off for so long, but the reviews I kept getting were like reminders for me to come back and finish what I started, so again thank you they were very helpful and encouraging._

* * *

Arthur wasn't one for counting the days until graduation like all the so many hopeful and anxious classmates around him. He could only feel a sense of numbness in the thought of graduation being a mere two weeks away. Time seemed to slip from his hands like grains of salt gradually, but ever surer.

The time between his confession and where he was now sent his mind reeling in a sort of fog. A dangerous void he would care not to bring up, but the fact that it would stare him down each day was not something easy to ignore. Therefore he minded to himself, studying day in and day out, not that he was a social butterfly by any means, but he found it meaningless to even attempt to want to be bothered anymore.

For the most part Arthur slept, ate, studied, and breathed, but everything whether it be in his dreams, his food, his books, or in the air it always seemed to leave him with a stale and dry emptiness. His parents only gave quizzical looks to their now even stodgier son while his friends looked at this baffling change in behavior and took a more …responsive approach.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Really now? Cornering me in the library like a couple urchin thugs?" He growled, viewing his two assailants.

The one closest to the Brit laughed mockingly, just begging for a nice right hook in the face, he brushed a couple loose stray hairs looking coy, " As your dear friend, I speak from the depths of my heart when I say you look like complete shit."

Arthur sputtered indignantly, not expecting that in the least, "You arses came here, corner me in the library, and say I look like shite? And you say it's from the "depths of your heart? Well too bad your heart only runs a millimeter deep you sodding-!"

"Enough _Arturo_, look at yourself. You've been burying yourself in books constantly, and you hardly talk to us anymore, did we do something?" Antonio questioned, worry etched in his face.

Arthur blinked in surprise, but turned back to looking cross, "Since when is studying such a horrible thing? At least I'm not ruining myself with drugs, hmm? Ever think of that?"

Francis shook his head in disappointment, "Honestly, Angleterre, you don't understand us when we say look at yourself. It is one thing to have your nose in books at all hours of the day, but ignoring us, cher? We've asked around, and it seems you've hardly been speaking to anyone."

"You what?" He spat angrily.

"That's right, we've asked everyone… and we mean everyone." Francis smirked wickedly; finally trapping the rabbit into the corner physically and metaphorically, "Now start with the talking."

The Brit knew he had been set up, angering him was just they're way of getting him vulnerable and irrational, but he knew something they didn't, he was sure of it, "W-Well if you've spoken to everyone like you supposedly said you have then you most likely already know."

"Ahh! So it does have to do with someone here! I knew it!" Antonio cheered, while Francis smiled sickly sweet at the Briton.

"We didn't think you've been acting strange because of _someone_, but thanks for the hint~"

Sod it all! Another trap he had no doubtedly fallen into, how could he be so careless about _that_ of all things?

Cursing inwardly Arthur fidgeted self-consciously as he felt their blatant gazes on him, "It doesn't concern either of you. I've come to terms with the problem myself, and have moved on from said…problem."

"Oh so this someone is a problem now, mon ami?"

"D-Don't twist my words around, frog! It was a minor issue in an otherwise perfectly splendid senior year that is now gone and trust me when I say…this issue will not be coming back to bother me." Arthur ended his short rant with a deep intact of air and determined nod.

Antonio quirked his head to the side dumbly, "You know who used to bother you a lot? That transfer student, you know the _béisbol_ player…?"

"Ahh, I believe you mean Alfred!" Francis butted in, stealing a glance at Arthur who turned away just as quickly.

"Si! Strange, he doesn't come around anymore, ay?"

"Yes…strange indeed. As if he was whisked away, oh what cruel fate." Francis feigned disappointment, "Perhaps it's all those lovely ladies he's been carting around with him. I never took him for a romantic until a couple months ago."

Arthur refused to respond, crossing his arms.

"Ah si, he has a new girl in his arms almost every week now." The Spaniard pointed out, looking less than innocent.

The French boy nodded over exaggeratingly, "Sigh, what a tragedy. Too busy for his friend, but I suppose that's what happens when one is looking for love in all the wrong places."

"ENOUGH!" Arthur snapped, eyes brimming, "I was never that intolerable git's friend! You both know he was always a damn thorn in my arse since I met him! Now I praise high heaven that there are actually people besides me on this planet that can occupy his time and not want to slit their throats!" He finished, letting out a shaking breath he had been holding in for some time.

The silence was then followed by a loud 'shush' from the middle-aged librarian casting a look over at a flushed Arthur and his two astonished friends.

A low chuckling emitted from behind a bookcase and the Brit could only roll his eyes, "We know that's you Gilbert, you tart."

The silver haired teen popped his head out casually while holding a magazine upside down, "What's with the name calling? So unawesome dude, it's not my fault Jones totally dumped you or whatever and now you're in your emo corner shoving books up your ass."

If it weren't for the librarian's glowering radar Arthur would've gladly launched himself at the German, fists and all, but he seethed quietly, "Fuck you, you have no idea-"

"But that's what this is about, isn't it? He rejected you, now you sit here while everyone else has a life, oui?" Francis said, looking sullen.

The Brit felt the stinging in the corner of his eyes as they watered, and the burning and clenching of his throat as it dried. His three friends now sure more than ever that he was finally about to speak.

He croaked, "I….I've had a lot of time to think about it, and what I've come to realize is that some people aren't who you think they are. That you envision them, or idolize them, and then they're not even human because you made them into this perfect "god" that …could do no wrong, that are beautiful with no flaws and strong with no weaknesses…"

The three looked dumbfounded, "What are you getting at, Arthur?" Antonio questioned, eyebrow raised.

Arthur shook his head at their impatience, "I'm getting at…the fact that….Alfred F. Jones is a wanking prick that I should've kicked in the balls when I had the bloody chance!"

Gilbert cheered, "Now that's what I'm talking about! Arthur got his dick back!"

"SHHHHHHH!"

The four turned to one another, "Uhh, let's take this outside."

Once out in the sun which Arthur had to adjust his dulled eyes to, the boys went right on back to the subject at hand.

"You're all saying it wrong you know. He didn't reject me as if I had…feelings for him or some nonsense like that; he rejected who I am…" He looked down at his sweating hands saying this, not daring to meet their gazes.

"Figured as much. Fucking homophobe that's what he is." Gilbert spat none too kindly with a darkened expression.

Francis merely nodded, "I should've expected as much. It really is cruel fate Arthur…what exactly happened when you told him?"

The Brit shook his head miserably, all those nights in bed weeping and moments of solitude in the shower crying so he couldn't see his tears were brought back to him. How fucking pathetic was he, and for what? For this complete fake, for this idol, for who he thought was his friend.

"I…He just…I just stood there and took it while he-! He's an arsehole, and I just stood there and took it and cried. I fucking cried like a brokenhearted bitch…I thought he was my friend, I thought I was losing a friend…he said I was lying to him through our whole friendship, but now thinking clearly he was the one that was lying to me!" He clenched his fists feeling his nails dig deep into the palm of his hand, but he felt no pain, he felt rather numb in fact.

"That's a dick move! I say we do something, you know?" Gilbert suggested.

The other two however mulled over as they gazed warily at their British friend.

Francis sighed heavily, it went worse than he had imagined. Seeing his best friend like this, reduced to tears so easily, "You're a strong person Angleterre, anyone with eyes can see that."

Arthur looked up in surprise, "W-what?"

The Spaniard caught on and smiled reassuringly, "Si, you've got the spirit of _el toro_! Don't let anyone take that from you. What happened that day was all that _putos_ fault and you were only being true to yourself."

"I see what you two are doing, but I-I stood there and did nothing, how could that be considered strong?" He choked out.

Gilbert launched himself at the Brit, hands implanting themselves on his trembling shoulders, "You're strong, because you can take it! You're a better friend that piece of shit will ever be. Just think about it man, he'll never have a real relationship, a real friend, if he doesn't even know how to fucking be a friend how the hell can he make one? He's the screw up, and you should go up to his damn face and tell him so!"

Arthur's eyes twinkled, and hope glistened. He looked past his red eye counterpart, and to his closest companions. Instead of shaking their heads at Gilbert as he expected them to, they beamed and nodded, and he couldn't help himself from doing the same.

* * *

"Are you really going to leave me to play some stupid videogame?" She whined, clinging much like a lost kitten would to their mother.

Alfred shyly backed out of his girlfriend's clawing grip as he adjusted his school bag and walked over to his friend Kiku, "I already told ya babe, I'll text you when I get home." He assured, waving her off gently.

Kiku stood by, watching the girl's face bloom into a dark shade and huff, "Right when you get home, well I'll miss you." She cooed.

He chuckled uneasily and gestured Kiku to follow him out to the student parking lot, "Fucking psycho, I'll text her when I get home that its so over." He muttered, not looking at his fellow cohort as he unlocked his car door.

The Japanese boy took it in stride, sighing, "Perhaps you should reconsider, she's seems…extremely attached to you."

They both made themselves comfortable in the vehicle as Alfred started it up and checked his mirrors, "Exactly! Its creepy, it's like she can't even take a crap without me holding her hand!"

"It's only been two weeks, she's still appears to be in the honeymoon phase, it's understandable if you think about it, Alfred-san."

Alfred shrugged in annoyance as he drove them out of the parking lot, "It takes two to be in the honeymoon phase and I was over it- actually it never happened for me…" He concluded, not the least bit caring of how harsh he sounded.

Kiku didn't comment on his friend's attitude for it seemed hopeless to even bring the issue up. Alfred wasn't going to change back into the boy Kiku first grew accustomed to and became fond of anytime soon. The boy who always had his eyes looking up with such hope while others around him only looked down, perhaps wishing they too had his enthusiasm and caring nature. Now he only kept his eyes on others and scrutinized, sneered, or coldly ignored.

Take for instance their friend Arthur; Kiku knew his relationship with them wasn't exactly up to par with what the Briton and American had shared with each other prior to Alfred obvious attitude change. He remembered walking by on his way to class each day only to see the pair still chatting happily even after the bell had rung, as if time was no restraint to them. Sometimes they would be laughing, or teasing, or even share small fights neither looked like they were serious about, he even believed he saw them cry once or perhaps it was just the Japanese boy's imagination. It wasn't a sad and hopeless cry, neither was it one of absolute joy, but content was probably the best word for it.

"Can you believe we'll be outta school soon? I know it's only been a year for me here, but time just flies doesn't it?" Alfred asked suddenly.

Kiku nodded, "Yes, it's a lot to get used to…all the friends we made…"

"Heh," there was an awkward silence after that, "So whatcha doing tomorrow? I was thinkin' we could have a horror movie marathon!" The American beamed childishly and looked at his friend.

Kiku averted his eyes, "Gomen, I already plans. I believe I'll be going to that bookstore in the mall that's having its clearance sale, with Arthur."

"Oh." It was short and curt until Alfred gave a straining sigh, "You know, I noticed you call me Alfred-san all the time, and you just say his name casually, is it 'cause you don't feel as close to me or something?" His eyes gave a scrutinizing look causing Kiku to almost shiver.

"I- I've known him longer, its understandable, but if it bothers you so much-"

"No." Alfred interrupted simply, "Whatever makes you feel more comfortable, be my guest and call me what you want."

Kiku took a breath and a chance as if it were a now or never situation, "I may be over stepping my boundaries, Alfred-san, but Arthur he…I had to convince him to join me tomorrow and almost reduced myself to begging, do you possibly know why?" He wasn't exactly positive that Arthur and Alfred's strange behavior was linked, but anyone who knew how close they were could tell without a doubt somehow the two problems were similar, the question was why.

The golden-haired American shrugged stiffly as he turned a corner on a street, "He's never been a social guy, doesn't surprise me."

"He was a bit more outgoing when you two were close." The Japanese teen stated, no longer afraid, but extremely curious of Alfred's answer to that.

Alfred no longer looked at him, instead he focused on the road and cars, " Hn…can we not talk about that?" He asked barely above a whisper as if the very mention of their friendship was not to be spoken of.

Kiku openly glared, none of this seemed fair, Arthur would sit in class head down from lack of sleep and cocoon himself from anyone who would try to get near, including Kiku. Then there was Alfred, as bubbly and popular as ever now that he dropped his grumpy British friend and made way to being the senior class heartthrob and top athlete. They were both completely different people now, shells of who they once were and Kiku didn't know how much longer he could put up with either of them.

"Alfred-san, I don't know how far back you can remember, but just two months ago you and Arthur were almost inseparable and when you weren't together you would talk about one another fondly."

The America clenched his fingers around the steering wheel, his emotions were easier to read than anyone Kiku encountered before, excluding Feliciano, "Well its not like that anymore and if you're trying to get us back together that's never going to happen." He hissed.

"Does this have to do with your popularity, were you afraid of being associated with him because he doesn't play a sport and carry around girls?" Kiku narrowed his eyes.

Alfred shot him back the same look, his face reddened however, "Do you think I'm that shallow? I'm friends with you aren't I?"

"What do you mean by that?"

Alfred wanted to close his blue eyes and sigh, but went back to looking at the street, "Nothing…" He paused, "I just think if you want an honest friend you shouldn't be around people like him."

Kiku's eyebrows creased in bewilderment, "People…like him?" Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he was left gaping, "So he told you then."

The American now wore a confused expression, "What are you talk about?"

Kiku turned his head and looked out the window, "It's all so clear now, the day he told his friends his secret, he confided in you as well, didn't he?" He didn't need to see the other's face to know he was right, the silence was answer enough.

"Why, Alfred-san?" He mumbled, eyes staring at the trees and worn sidewalk as they zoomed by.

The American hesitated, "I don't make friends with people who lie to me about what they are, Arthur hid something huge and disgusting from me, from all of us. I can't be around someone like that. He deceived me and I don't know what sick game he's playing, but I wont fall for it."

Kiku felt his eyes water, Arthur didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve this either, "Pull over the car please." He said as calmly as possible, his hand already on the handle.

Alfred's eyes widened as he turned to his friend, the other's Adam's apple bobbed up and down erratically, and his face was twisted into a grimaced expression, "What the hell Kiku? I'm just saying how I feel, alright? You can still be friends with him, now take it easy," He tried to reason with him.

Kiku shook his head frantically, " Don't tell me to 'take it easy' please, just drop me off here I will walk home."

The American shot him an offended glare, "What did I say, huh?"

The Japanese boy stiffened, "I fear if I say what I think, I too will be persecuted by you."

"Persecuted? What the fuck are you talking about? Will you just say something already, Kiku?" Alfred was now at the point of yelling and Kiku gritted his teeth.

"I do not know what happened exactly, but your words paint a very vivid picture. Arthur entrusted you with something he had been hiding, not because he wanted to trick you, but because of narrow-minded people like you he feared he'd be judged and sadly his fear was an unfortunate reality," He was breathing heavily now, and raised his voice with each word that poured out of his mouth, "To be honest with you I do not see a future with us in it, and quite frankly it is you who disgusts me. Now please pull over and let me out."

There was silence after that, Alfred's eyes couldn't have grown any wider as he wordlessly pulled over and unlocked the door for the other teen. Kiku quickly jumped out and slammed the door behind him, but before he said one last thing, perhaps the last thing he would ever utter to the American, "You have now lost two of your friends, and I do not pity you."

* * *

The next couple of days had been pleasant for Arthur, since it was the weekend he spent most of Saturday with his chum, Kiku. They hadn't spent much time together and Arthur knew he was to blame for that. He didn't want any of his friends hearing about his inner turmoil, they didn't need to know, and Kiku always had a way of getting the truth out of him one way or another.

For the most part they searched quietly through bookshelves then sat together and read bits of books before purchasing a few. Kiku was as amiable as always, but shot Arthur more and more glances as if he wanted to say something. Arthur didn't pressure him just like Kiku didn't pressure him the two months he had not been himself.

On Sunday he had his graduation cap and gown mailed to his house, "It's so wrinkly, I guess I have to put in the dryer," his mother complained as she made him put it on the instant she got home from work.

Arthur felt silly with the cap on, it didn't fit his head right and he could just imagine it falling off as he walked up to receive his diploma.

"Not even two weeks left and then off you go to become a man," His mum cooed and pinched his cheek. He blushed and lightly batted her hand away, he didn't like when she said things like that even though she was right and now more than ever it was time for him to man up and settle the score.

* * *

Francis and Antonio had been coaching Arthur on what exactly to say to the American the instant he saw him, though he had a feeling he wouldn't remember any of it when he looked into those cerulean eyes, and Gilbert gave him plenty of fighting tips incase things would get physical.

The three offered to watch on the sidelines in the off chance that they would be needed, but Arthur declined their help saying he would like to settle things as privately as possible with his once best friend. The one thing he wasn't sure of was how he was going get the American alone, they couldn't even look at each other anymore when they were in the same hallway or the cafeteria.

Arthur was hopeful however, but he wanted to do this with class. Francis suggested he leave a note in the American's locker to meet him by the baseball field. The Brit thought the idea was juvenile and instead reasoned that he could just as easily text him, but every time his hand would reach the send button he'd stop himself immediately.

A week had already flown by and the students were prepping for their graduation and lining up by last name. Arthur and Alfred were not in the same row, but Alfred sat directly in front of the other and Arthur could hardly believe his dumb luck.

Still he was left shaking at the idea of talking to him, it was so simple to say he would man up and tell the American how much he wronged had him, but images of the verbal abuse Alfred inflicted on him coursed through his mind and he backed out each time.

His friends were becoming irritated and impatient, "I will go up to him if you don't." They would threaten, and Arthur shook his head, no he would do it, he would do it.

Now was the day of graduation and his mother was fixing the cap on his head in the living room and his father was snapping pictures. His brothers were all there to support him, but mainly to tease him on the many smartypants awards he'd be receiving. His mother chided all of them, but was inwardly pleased to have the family altogether and looking their best.

Before the graduation Arthur spoke to everyone he knew, "Hey Arthur, you haven't signed my yearbook yet!" Elizabeta scolded then hugged him cheerfully as he promised to sign it over summer break.

His family watched in interest, his mother was coy about it, but his brothers whistled as he went red in the ears, "You haven't told them?" The Hungarian girl whispered and dragged him closer to her.

He shook his head in embarrassment at the look she was giving him, "Well I don't want to confuse them anymore when the time comes but-" She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, "Good luck Arthur."

Arthur smiled softly and nodded, "You too, we'll be seeing each other."

The teachers then began to line them up just as they had days earlier and had them walking to their respected seats while their families and friends sat on the bleachers and took photos, held up signs, and waved to the soon to be graduates.

Arthur couldn't spot his family, but saw someone familiar in the sea of people; he looked almost exactly like the boy sitting in front of him albeit with wavier hair and a subtle smile he'd never seen on the American. He had to be his brother, and the adults sitting on either side of him had to be his divorced parents, they cheered on their graduating son while the brother sat and observed instead of being a part of the action.

Alfred elbowed one of the guys next to him and looked out at the crowd, "Dude I can't see my family anywhere!" He complained.

The Briton took a heaving sigh and gently prodded the American boy on the shoulder. He stiffened immediately, but half turned around and made loose eye contact.

Arthur held in a gulp and pointed directly to where Alfred's family was located, "I believe that's them."

Alfred looked up and saw them waving wildly as his brother sat and smiled, he gave them a heartwarming grin and wave back then nodded to Arthur as his smile vanished.

Once everyone was settled the salutatorian, Mei Huang, and valedictorian, Tino Väinämöinen both gave their respected speeches and even brought a few tears amongst their fellow students. Arthur never cried for these sorts of things, it was touching yes and he would miss many of his friends, but it took time for him to reason with the fact that he might never see some of them again. As far as he could tell Alfred did not tear up a bit either, but he couldn't see what expression he had from the back of his head anyway.

Then the moment everyone had been waiting for came, the diplomas signifying the fours years of toiling with mountains of homework, callous teachers, and the socially awkward moments of being a teenager were being handed out.

As people stepped on stage their friends and family would cheer for them, Alfred received a huge applause. Arthur didn't build himself up for that sort of recognition and was surprised to see all of his friends cheering for him even the two quietest people he knew, Kiku and Roderich.

When everyone got their diplomas in hand they were instructed to move their tassel to the left side to represent that they had now graduated, "Congratulations to all of you, I expect that everyone will have a bright and successful future ahead of them," their principal said into the microphone and everyone cheered as they threw off their caps.

Arthur quickly threw that abomination from off his head, it was incredibly itchy and as he predicted earlier fell off his head numerous times. Though once it was in the air he didn't very well know how to retrieve it, "Damn it all," he cursed as he searched around his area, it must have fallen somewhere near by, he hated the thing but it had sentimental value plus his mum would kill him for losing it.

"This yours?"

The emerald-eyed Brit shot up at the voice and stared transfixed at the hand holding what he assumed was his cap.

He grabbed it immediately and tried to take it, but the hand holding it didn't let go right away, "We need to talk after this." Arthur's eyes bulged out and searched the sky blue eyes in front of him, they didn't appear menacing at all so he nodded.

"Where, when?"

"The baseball field under the bleachers in twenty minutes." Then the American turned back around as if nothing happened. Arthur clutched at his cap, nails digging into it as he followed what the others around him were doing and looked for his family and friends.

* * *

"Arthur, stand up straight! Come on don't slouch like that." His mother scolded as she took countless pictures of him with Francis, Antonio, Gilbert, Kiku, and any other person he knew who happened to walk by.

He took more than enough with his brothers as he held up Peter and his older brothers held him up and over their shoulders, "Let me down you barmy areseholes!" He yelled, struggling against their grip.

They only snorted and laughed at his distressed face, but let him down gently. Fifteen minutes had already gone by and now Arthur had to make up an excuse so he could leave, "I need to…go talk to my English teacher, about umm…"

His oldest brother Duncan nudged him on the shoulder roughly and smirked, "Aye it's a girl, huh? Why don't you just say so?"

"Let him be boys," their father called out, "Well see you ten minutes Arthur." He said giving his boy a smile.

Arthur smiled back uneasily, "I'll just walk home if that's alright."

"Be careful love!" His mum said and he made his way through the crowd at breakneck speed.

It was dark out on the field, so unlike the beautiful blue day where he confessed. He wondered why Alfred wanted to talk to him in the first place, he was the one who was supposed to have the courage to face the other with either words or fists he didn't care.

He was a bit early, but Alfred was already waiting and leaning on a pole with a distant look in his eyes. Arthur crept closer until the other looked up and they shared the same fearful expression.

The bespectacled boy then snorted and folded his arms. "You look like a damn Christmas tree with all your chords and medals,"

Arthur narrowed his eyes and walked closer, his medals jiggling as he did so, "That's the first thing you say to me? I'm a fucking Christmas tree?"

"Yup."

"I hate you."

Alfred shrugged and looked down.

The Brit felt like kicking him in the balls then and there, but instead pulled at his own hair frustration, "Why, why did you-?"

"Don't you have anything else to say to me?" Alfred interrupted, eyes still on the yellowish grass below them.

Arthur nodded in determination, his large eyebrows knitted together, "Yes, in fact I do! You are scum! You say I betrayed your trust, that I'm disgusting! A fag! But it is you who…who…" His voice was beginning to waver, and his eyes were moistening to the point where he couldn't see out of them properly, this was not supposed to happen again, but he couldn't stop it to save his life, "I-I…can't believe…you did this to me….you of all people!" He let himself go then and fell to his knees, to make the moment even more cliché he expected rain to fall like big glops on both of them as Alfred stood and watched him cry.

No rain came however, but instead the warmth of a hand on the top of his head, he didn't want to look up and meet those accusing eyes, but he did for reasons even unfounded to him.

Alfred was frowning, but let his hand cradle the other's wet cheek, "I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but…kiss me." He mumbled, and tilted the other's head up.

Arthur froze completely as the American lowered his thin and cracked lips to the Brit's much softer and plump ones. Arthur didn't respond at all, but shut his eyes as the other reluctantly pulled away, "Not so bad I guess," he murmured and let his hand drop from the other's face.

Arthur backed away and stood up, "I-I don't understand."

The American teen didn't say anything and went back to leaning on the pole as if he hadn't just kissed his gay former best friend.

"You can't do that! You can't toy with me like that!" The English boy now had a look of fury as shoved at Alfred's chest, "Answer me!" He roared, voice cracking pathetically.

Alfred grabbed both of his wrists and pulled them flush against each other, "What do you want me to say, huh?" He barked into the other's ear, "Its too late anyways. Nothing I say, nothing I do will fix it!"

There's eyes met, and they both wore tired, fragilely broken expressions. Arthur was the first to break and turn his gaze, "You know, I thought you were so perfect when we were friends. You have flaws though, I reminded you of it all the time, but still I thought you…"

"I'm only human, Arthur." Alfred breathed out.

Arthur gulped and nodded, "I wasn't angry with you at first like I should've been. I was more miserable then anything else. I missed you." He croaked. These were his true feelings, feelings he hadn't told anyone else because they seemed so weak in his opinion. Only a masochist would confide in someone who had already abused them and stomped on their trust, but Arthur rarely thought of what Alfred had did that day when he yearned to be with him again, "I missed our time together so much, sometimes I would try to convince myself that day was a nightmare and tomorrow you would talk to me again…and smile at me…"

Alfred didn't answer back immediately, but shame overflowed in his crystal eyes, "I…don't think you'll go to hell Arthur, and you're not disgusting, you're not human though…"

Arthur flinched, thinking it was insult.

"You're the perfect one."

The Brit's cheeks reddened and he shook his head in disbelief, "You confuse me."

"It doesn't matter though, I lost the most perfect thing in my life because I confuse myself…I really am an idiot." Alfred muttered as he let go of the other boy's wrists.

Arthur brought his hand to the American's shoulder, he could hardly stand to see the look of self-hate on the American's face because it reminded him so much of his own prior to confessing. Alfred was confused, he was lost, and it wouldn't be right to leave him like that, "I understand. It's hard Alfred, we say things we don't mean because we're confused, but if you let me help you-"

"Why would want to help me? I broke you."

His words had a small bite to them, but the Briton smiled comfortingly, now holding the other's cheek, it was so warm and lean just as he imagined, "You fix me, then I fix you."

The blue-eyed teen placed his hand over the other's, "Because of the idiot I am, I lost Kiku as a friend too. He wont ever talk to me again."

"We can talk to him together." Arthur insisted.

Alfred still looked lost, "You shouldn't forgive me, Arthur. I wouldn't."

"Then thank goodness I'm not you."

* * *

The summer was the hottest their city had seen in a long time. Arthur kept his promise to sign Elizabeta's yearbook, and spend as much time as possible with his friends before he would have to move into his dorm.

He invited Alfred to outings with him that included Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert. It took an entire month to officially trust him being close to Arthur again, and Alfred let each of them punch him once in the stomach as pay back. Gilbert "accidentally" punched him the groin, but all was forgiven even if it was a bit strained.

Kiku also had a difficult time getting used to the idea of Alfred being a constant in Arthur's life again. Reluctantly he admitted to being bisexual to Alfred and said the things the other said in the car that day not only affected him because he knew it hurt Arthur, but it hurt him just as much. Alfred apologized profusely and Arthur backed him up immediately. Kiku smiled despite the bitter feeling in his heart, if Arthur could forgive him, so could he.

Now it was reaching the end of their summer of lazing about and discovering each other again. It was clear Alfred felt confused about his sexuality and Arthur never pushed him despite the need to want those lips on his again, and so much more. He could tell Alfred was curious as well, he would often stare at the Brit for long periods of time without saying anything, and would hold him close on occasions for no discernable reason other then to touch him.

"I need to tell my family before I go off, will you be there for me?" Arthur asked the one night Alfred decided to stay over. They were both lying down on the carpet, spread out like starfish and wearing nothing but boxers as they let the fan hit them.

Alfred sat up and propped his head on his palm, "I'll be there, you know, incase you need any heroic saving and what not."

Arthur punched his arm weakly as Alfred scooted closer, leaning over the Brit, "It'll be okay though, they love you."

The English teen merely rolled his eyes, but his cheeks tinted, "Love, huh?"

Alfred nodded, closer now that their arms were touching, chests pressing every time they exhaled, "Yeah, love…"

The acidic green eyed Brit lifted his chin slightly, hoping to connect with those lips once again and this time be more then ready. Alfred was now hovering over him completely, lowering himself down until they made that elating contact they both had been craving for. It was soft as Arthur tilted his head to give Alfred more access to his lips then took a chance as he prodded his tongue at the other's opening which he slowly slide into. Now their mouths were meshed together, moving like a caressing wave they both didn't want to feel the end of. It was sensual, electrifying, and was a promising agreement for more to come.

Arthur backed away first as they breathed into each other's mouths, he lightly touched the American's collar bone, "That…"

Alfred nodded back quickly, "I know, I know..."

This was love, it had to be.

And this was just one thing he could nothing about.

* * *

_A/N: I can see your disappointed faces now, a happy ending, I know. I actually had many alternative endings for this, one being them meeting each other on two occasions, the first ends in a huge fist fight, and then the last one at graduation where either they make up like they had here, or they respectably apologize, but move on with their lives. I took the fight out and inserted Kiku in instead, and well the happy ending just came more naturally to me. I rarely do angst, and when I do I screw up on it and make the ending a happy one just like here (sigh)._

_Some of you might be thinking the happy ending was less realistic and Arthur's forgiving nature was a little on the corny side (you're a bit right). I wanted to show that Alfred and Arthur are foils of each other, Alfred finds it impossible to forgive even himself while Arthur can do it very quickly when he understands that Alfred is just a scared and confused boy, plus his feelings for him make it much easier for him to open his heart to other again._

_Alfred's homophobia was just going to be that, homophobia, but the happy ending called for some love and although I didn't exactly make it clear why and where his homophobia came from I believe that just admitting he is only human speaks for itself._

_Anyway, thank you for reading!_


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